


THE HABIT

by DistractedBySparklyThingsAndToast



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Custom-Built Homes, Donas Fraser, F/M, Horseback Riding, Hot Sex, Kidnapping, Kissing, Lingerie, Neck Kissing, Picnics, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, adult playroom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedBySparklyThingsAndToast/pseuds/DistractedBySparklyThingsAndToast
Summary: I've nicknamed this a "Whiplash Fic," because hopefully, it will be short and impactful (but hopefully no visits to the chiropractor or lawsuits... *ahem*).  I have to have a place to release all my plot gremlins or else they'll drive me crazy and try to convince me that mayonnaise is actually edible...
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 35
Kudos: 59





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Should I continue this? And, yes, I know that I am working on "The Substitute" and have a Jenny/Ian simmering on the back burner; please forgive me for this detour. No set posting schedule; this stuff will come when it feels like it.

Jamie opened his eyes slowly and thought for a minute that he was late for work. Panicked, he checked the clock at his bedside, relieved that it was actually Saturday morning. Since he and Claire had come together, he experienced contented, refreshing sleep as never before. Sometimes it felt like he closed his eyes and woke up five minutes later, he slept so deeply. His love slept peacefully in his arms, and he breathed his favorite scent, what he’d nicknamed “mo nighean donn.” It was nothing but her natural smell mixed with a gentle reminder of her rose-scented bodywash and floral perfume from the day before. Warm and contented, he nuzzled himself into her hair contentedly and drifted off again. 

He awoke a couple of hours later, at 7:30. He stretched carefully and padded to the kitchen to get their coffees. He and Claire had put much consideration into planning this house and had decided to build for their old age as well as their present. The house was in the middle of 200 acres in the middle of the woods on his family’s property. He and Claire had signed a 500-year lease, so the land still belonged to the estate, Lallybroch, but was under their control. Their house’s relatively remote location meant they were always guaranteed privacy. It was one story with DDA (UK) ADA-approved (Americans with Disabilities Act) door dimensions and safety measures. The soundproofed master wing was luxurious, with a large office for Claire and himself that had a fully stocked bar area. They had a cosy fireplace framed by large glass windows that allowed them to watch the sun rise and set every day. Both had their own walk-in closets with dressing areas separate from the shared ensuite bath.

Claire and Jamie’s well-appointed playroom was attached to their bedroom and only accessible via a hidden release behind a bookshelf that slid away when actuated. It utilized a fingerprint reader to keep it private. Much thought had gone into this room. It had all manner of toys arranged neatly in storage drawers, a including a toy sterilizer and a few pieces of bespoke furniture like a St. Andrew’s cross, a very padded spanking bench and an adjustable bed as seen in an OB-GYN’s office including removeable stirrups and the extra tease of ankle and wrist restraints. Part of the wall had height-adjustable iron collars, shackles and fetters integrated into it with a thick tumbling mat directly underneath to prevent the wearer from getting a chill from the concrete floor. There was a height-adjustable rimming chair with manacles and fetters to keep the subject still if the dominant wanted. A sex swing rounded out the furniture in the room. There was even a small holding cell, complete with a jail-style bed, sink and toilet with a cutout in the floor for a tray of food. 

The public areas of the house contained a large living room with a log-burning fireplace, bookshelves and a bar hidden behind the center bookshelf with plenty of room for comfortable, overstuffed couches and chairs. Claire and Jamie made sure to have a separate small library stocked with their favorite new books and classics, with lovely antique furniture and comfortable reading chairs. 

There was another wing especially for young guests. It had a creative layout that had been constructed with the input of Jamie’s and Claire’s family. The hallway to the children’s wing fed into a large central playroom with an indoor swing set and every wall led to a bath or a bedroom or the reading room. The soundproofed parents’ suite with private bath, two children’s rooms and a Jack-and-Jill bath complete with changing station, full bathtub, double sinks, and separate shower.

On the other side of the kitchen, a long hallway led to a soundproofed guest suite with a sitting room, small office, and king-sized bed with an ensuite full bath. There was a formal living room with its own bookshelves and a dining room. Claire and Jamie kept two acres mowed around the house, which created a spacious backyard area. Part of the yard was taken up by a large concrete pad that had a smoker and barbecue on it as well as a few picnic tables and umbrellas in case it got hot. 

The kitchen had its own easy-open glass door leading to this patio, so there was no need for an outside kitchen. Entertaining friends and family were especially important for them and all their major appliances were Siemens, including their built-in coffee bar. He decided on cappucinos and topped them with decadent Lallybroch whole-milk foam and cinnamon for a treat. He put everything on a tray with fresh juice, toast with butter and homemade Lallybroch fig preserves. He placed the tray on the dresser next to his bedside table and got back into bed with his coffee, juice, and toast. He picked up a book on Mozart he’d found in Da’s library during their last visit and was soon wrapped up in the child prodigy’s amazing world. 

Claire woke and kissed him long and gently. “Good morning, darling, aren’t we going riding today?” 

“Aye, mo nighean donn, we are,” Jamie smiled. “It’s a beautiful, warm day, so that will make it even better.” 

Claire smiled silkily and then exclaimed, “Oh, you considerate boy, you brought breakfast! Ummmm, cappucinos and Lallybroch preserves...” she took a generous swipe of jam off a slice of toast and smeared it slowly on Jamie’s neck and nipple, earning a surprised gasp from the love of her life, who knew what this meant – mama always got what she wanted! He flopped back on his pillows with a happy grunt, waiting for the storm to break over him. “Mhhhhhhmmmm, fig on perfect man... nothing better!” breathed Claire. She breathed warm breath on his neck and Jamie turned his head, allowing her easier access. She latched onto his neck hungrily and sucked the sweet treat off her sweetest treat. Jamie’s cock stiffened, tenting the sheet that covered him just a little bit. She laved his neck and moaned, licking all down his neck before trailing back up to his jawline and biting him, worrying the skin in her teeth, making the large ginger hiss in pleasure laced with pain and arousal. 

“Ahhh, there she is, my possessive, aggressive Mistress.” 

Claire growled throatily in response and sucked harder, yanking on his curls, making him rumble in need. His cock was rock-hard by this time. 

“Whose property are you, boy?” 

He whispered in a gravelly voice, “Yours, Mistress, only yours.” She smirked, finished marking him and let his skin pop from her mouth. 

He breathed a sigh of short-lived relief. She continued kissing his chest, latching on to the nipple glistening with sweetness. She teased the nipple to painful hardness, swirling her tongue, lapping up the last of the jam. She reached over and tweaked his free nipple hard, and Jamie shook from a bolt of lightning roaring down his spine that erupted in his cock, now shiny with drops of salty pre-come.

She continued playing with his nipple with her mouth, biting and sucking Jamie into a shuddering mess,

“Please, I want ta come inside ye, love. Will ye allow it? I dinna think I can hold on verra much longer.”

“No. Not yet.” She saw his grimace and desperate look and said gently,

“I’m sorry. You have no choice. You must wait. No speaking until I release my toy from my mouth, do you understand?” She looked up at him with a smolder and Jamie swallowed hard and nodded. Claire moved back from Jamie enough so she could take his cock in her mouth. 

His chest was heaving with the effort of trying to maintain control as a counterbalance to Claire, who was working so hard to wrest it away from him. He writhed, panted and bucked. She devoured him hungrily, moaning around his weeping cock. He started to sweat as she raked her nails down his chest, torso and legs, making him shake and tears sting his eyes. She rolled his balls in her hand and Jamie scrunched his eyes closed and breathed through his nose and out his mouth, trying to stem the tide of feelings storming his body. His woman was driving him mad and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back his climax any more. 

Claire released his penis with a “pop!” and whispered, “Beg, boy, beg Mistress for what you need and look at me when you do!” 

Jamie let out a loud groan and fixed on her tawny eyes, begging, “Please, Mistress, I canna hold it any longer. Please, may I come?”

Claire looked out the window at the fluffy clouds and sunshine streaming through the window and smiled to herself, _it was going to be a perfect day._

“Come, my darling!” And Claire consumed him to his root again. Jamie couldn’t even breathe as his love shot out of his rock-hard member. He bellowed and bucked with the force of his orgasm as black spots danced in front of his eyes. He shuddered one last time and finally finished. Claire swallowed, smiled and licked her lips. She kissed him and held his trembling body, whispering soothing words. When he’d come back down, he rolled on top of her and said, “I love ye, Sorcha. Ye’ll be the death o’ me, though, one day. But what a way to go!” He smiled predatorily and gave her a heart-stopping, pussy-wetting kiss that showed her just how she’d made him feel.

Panting a little after his kiss, she blinked her eyes and grinned, “I have a new riding habit, darling, wait until you see it!” Jamie’s eyebrow arched in question,

Jamie blushed a little and looked bashfully at Claire before venturing, “Love, I have an idea. How’d you like to enjoy a roleplay with this weather?”

She grinned at him and said, “roleplay away! What’s your scene look like?” 


	2. Chapter 2

He smiled as handsomely as the Devil himself and intoned, “A rogue Highlander kidnaps a woman he’s loved from afar and imprisons her. I’ve wanted to play that out with you for a long time, a-la Joe’s ‘heaving-bosom novels.” He blushed beet-red. He watched in pleasure as her eyes grew dark and large with desire. 

“Oh, yes, Jamie, that sounds wonderful. Any rough stuff in there?”

“Of course, mo ghaol. He smiled, “Of course, he won’t suspect that she’ll use her feminine power on him to balance things out between them. “

Claire squealed in excitement, “Ooooh, I love it! Power dynamics and an unexpected shift! Yes, let’s do it! If we’re going to ride for most of the morning, I’ll go down and pack some snacks, okay?” 

Jamie kissed her nose. “No, love. _We’ll_ go down and pack things _together,_ including something for Donas. And if we need to call time to discuss something out-of-scene, we’ll just do it like we always do, right?” 

“Yep. I think the safe word for today should be ‘purple.’ Are you good with that, honey?”

“Aye, that’s just fine, lass.”

They went downstairs and packed sandwiches, crisps, cheese and crackers, fruit salad and coffee into a special saddlebag that had been modified by a leather artisan in Broch Mordha to transport picnic goods. There was even a zippered waterproof bag below the main bag for a picnic blanket. Claire made sure to pack the cinnamon-butter cookies she’d baked the night before. Humming happily, she made up a goodie bag for Donas. She put three cookies in Donas’ treat bag and heard an insulted sniff behind her.

“Allergies, much? Do you need a decongestant, Fraser?” She snorted in derision. 

“So Donas gets your sweet goodies and your man doesn’t?” Jamie shot back jealously and gave her a sweet pout.

“Oh, goodness, you huge baby,” Claire laughed. “Here!” and she grabbed two more cookies and held one in her pocket and one in her palm. Jamie groaned, seeing his favorite Claire cookies in his favorite Claire’s hand.

He lowered his great head and sniffed her palm appreciatively and licked the cookie, rumbling his satisfaction. He used his teeth to pick up the cookie and crunched contentedly. Claire lowered her hand, but Jamie caught it and kissed her palm gently. 

Claire fished the other cookie out of her pocket and held it up to Jamie, thumbing his bottom lip, purring seductively, “open, Big Man,”

He groaned, his pupils grew large and his eyes turned dark, “Aye, Mistress, as ye wish,” Jamie obediently opened his mouth and she placed the first half of the cookie on his waiting tongue, smirking at his hooded eyes.

“Bite down, darling,” Claire purred seductively, licking his chin dimple.

Jamie closed his eyes slowly and chewed even slower, savoring the buttery texture and smell covering his palate and filling his nose. His heart pounded when she kissed his lips and licked them gently. He slowly opened his eyes and opened his mouth for the other half of the cookie.

Claire carefully placed the last part of the cookie on his eager tongue, “Don’t bit down until I allow it, Big Man.”

Jamie closed his eyes and waited for her patiently. She licked his lips and kissed all around his mouth and watched as saliva started gathering,

“Close your beautiful mouth and eat your cookie, Big Man.” Jamie did as he was told and chewed and swallowed the most erotic cookie he’d ever had the pleasure of eating.

Jamie kissed her hand gallantly, pulled Claire into his arms and gave her a breathless, possessive kiss,

“I am under your power and gladly so, Mistress Fraser. I think that’s the most turned on a cookie has ever made me,” he pulled back and snickered. Jamie picked up the saddlebag and put it directly at the back door so they wouldn’t forget it and the two Frasers walked back upstairs to get ready for the day.

“Should we have the scene start when you reveal your new riding habit, mo Bhanrigh? (my queen)?”

Yes, Darling. I would like for you to close your eyes. I’m changing into my new riding habit and I want it to be a surprise.”

“Alright, mo ghaol.” Jamie laid on the bed and closed his eyes, visions of Claire poured into perfect riding pants and her black riding boots making his cock swell painfully. The alluring notes of his favorite perfume and leather filled his nose and he swallowed audibly (<https://www.bloomingdales.com/shop/product/house-of-sillage-holiday-limited-edition?ID=1652441>). Would she wear her tawny jacket that brought out her eyes so stunningly? He fervently hoped so. 

“Alright, Darling, you can open your eyes now.” Jamie opened his eyes slowly and sucked in a breath. Those _weren’t_ her riding boots. He’d never seen them before, but he knew he’d never forget them ([https://www.net-a-porter.com/en-us/shop/product/saint-laurent/moon-lace-up-leather-over-the-knee-boots/1265585?gclsrc=aw.ds&cm_mmc=Google-ProductSearch-US--c-_-NAP_EN_US_PLA-_-NAP%C2%A0-%C2%A0US%C2%A0-%C2%A0GS%C2%A0-+Generic+-+Shoes+-+Boots%C2%A0-%C2%A0High--Boots+-+Over+the+Knee_AM&gclid=EAIaIQobChMI3fvq38u-7AIVEI-GCh2t-Qw8EAQYASABEgLNxvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds](https://www.net-a-porter.com/en-us/shop/product/saint-laurent/moon-lace-up-leather-over-the-knee-boots/1265585?gclsrc=aw.ds&cm_mmc=Google-ProductSearch-US--c-_-NAP_EN_US_PLA-_-NAP%C2%A0-%C2%A0US%C2%A0-%C2%A0GS%C2%A0-+Generic+-+Shoes+-+Boots%C2%A0-%C2%A0High--Boots+-+Over+the+Knee_AM&gclid=EAIaIQobChMI3fvq38u-7AIVEI-GCh2t-Qw8EAQYASABEgLNxvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds)). 

His mouth fell open and he felt like he’d gargled with sand. He just stared at the goddess in front of him. Somehow, Jamie managed to drag his eyes from her feet further up her body. _Jesus, the boots were lace-up_. They looked so delicious on her, he wanted to taste them. He couldn’t think of a coherent thing to say. _A Dhia_ , she was clad in a woolen Fraser weathered hunting tartan above-the-knee skirt, _very_ above-the-knee. It was barely long enough to cover her ass. The barely-there skirt’s pleats stood razor-sharp and proud over her ass. Jamie wondered if she was going Scots-style under the kilt. He groaned as he felt his cock leak pre-come again. His eyes trailed down her legs and he caught a flash of his favorite silk garter belt. _Fuck_. Silk stockings were caressing her wondrous stems. She wore a filmy cream-colored silk shirt that was unbuttoned to her navel. His mother’s pearls caressed her beautiful breasts and he growled. There was a new pearl choker kissing her neck and the pearls matched his mother’s. Claire stepped closer to him and wrapped his hands around the choker,

“Jamie, this choker is yours and signifies your ownership of me when we play.” 

He swallowed heavily and croaked out, “Aye, mo nighean, thank ye.” She leaned over to her bedside table and opened it. She withdrew a stainless steel ring made of stiff metal links, like a dog’s choke collar. She took his right hand gently and removed his signet ring and slipped the new ring on his finger, “And this? It’s mine and the sign that you belong to me when we are playing, love.”

Tears gathered in his eyes and he kissed her cheek gently, “Aye, Sorcha, thank ye again.”

They both removed their wedding rings and Claire her earrings so Jamie could grab her hair without worrying about snagging her earrings, too (it happened once and had been very painful; Claire had teared up and Jamie cried because he caused her pain). 

“Sorcha, God, those boots. Let me worship you in those boots, please, mo chridhe,” he looked at her with blown, dark pupils, face flushed with want.

She smiled silkily as he sank gracefully to his knees, “Aye, lad, worship your Mistress.” 

“Thank ye, Mistress.”

He began by kissing the toes of her boots and massaging her feet through the supple leather. He nipped, licked, and sucked, pulling a heated groan from the woman above him. He moved his way up the column of leather, taking his time, soaking in every whimper and moan. He crawled on hands and knees to her backside and did it all again. 

Claire shivered when she felt his tongue at the junction of thigh and buttock, making Claire moan happily, “Oh, yes!” 

He nipped softly and crawled around again, ghosting a warm breath over her weeping quim, “My Beloved? Please?” he knelt, hands in his lap and looked up at her with hooded eyes. 

All Claire could do was nod. Jamie spread her nether lips with gentle fingers and rumbled his need right onto her clit, giving it a broad, hot lick. Claire’s knees buckled and Jamie caught her immediately. He eased her back up, looking in her eyes. She nodded wordlessly and he massaged where his fingers dug into her hips when he caught her. He kissed each faint bruise, drawing a whimper from his wife. He nibbled on her lips, stiffened his tongue, drilled a circle on her clit and took his pleasure in making her shake and groan. He licked his finger and inserted it gently into her channel, her wetness growing greater with every move. He added a second and then a third finger and proudly watched her getting herself off. He took his free hand and caressed her ass. Claire widened her stance so that he could have access to her ass if he wanted. Sure enough, he slowly extracted his fingers from her squelching wet snatch and inserted them, one at a time, into her backside. All Claire wanted to do was lean over him and let her ass get finger-fucked. 

“Please, Jamie, please! God, I’m going to come!” Her legs trembled and he sucked and licked harder at her clit, tongue-fucking her in time with the fingers in her ass. She screamed loudly and bucked helplessly. Jamie licked and swallowed frantically, trying to keep up with wave after wave of her juices. She came down slowly and sank to her knees to Jamie’s arms. 

She kissed him ravenously and caressed his cheek, “My turn, Big Man,” and smiled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “On your feet, Soldier!” Jamie grinned and stood before her, Claire still on her knees. He washed his hands thoroughly, got handcuffs and a scarf and secured her hands behind her back, not missing when she spasmed and hissed sharply in arousal. He took the scarf and tied it tightly above her elbows so her breasts jutted out. He smirked and dragged his finger over her labia. All Claire could do was writhe in ecstasy, stay in position and take it; he hadn’t given her permission to move.

He backed up a few feet and rumbled, “Girl, come to your Master - on your knees.” 

Claire said quietly, “Yes, Master,” and crawled to him. 

He grabbed her curls and, in a voice dripping with need, rasped, “What do ye want, girl?”

She looked up at him and whispered, “Please, My Heart, let me suck your cock.”

He inhaled sharply as Claire took his tip in her mouth and cast her eyes to the floor in submission. He growled, “eyes on me the whole time, woman!” She looked him in the eye and nodded, taking him further into her warm mouth. He fisted his free hand in more of her hair, pulling until she moaned. He guided her head up and down his hungry cock until he ordered her to suck and lick on his balls as well. She released his penis with a “pop!” and wriggled underneath him, hungrily licking and mouthing his balls until his cock was so hard Jamie was sure he could drill a hole in concrete with it. He reached down and dragged her out from under him by her thighs, growling, “swallow Master’s cock again, and give me a show while you’re at it, girl!”

Claire inhaled his cock again and undulated her hips and thrust her hungry pelvis towards his. Jamie enjoyed watching her ass dance with her sensuous movements and slapped it hard, shaking and groaning when she screamed in shock around his cock; the sensation nearly buckling his knees.

He brusquely grabbed her by the hair again, making her hiss in pain. He yanked her off her prize, snarling, “Whose property are you, woman?”

“Yours, Master.”

“You may continue, girl.”

“Thank you, Master.”

He groaned, “Not “long now, girl, you’re pleasing me well.” Claire smiled inwardly and redoubled her efforts, licking and nibbling on his delicious cock. 

She moaned and Jamie cursed, grinding out, “I can’t hold back any more, girl! Get ready!”

Claire bobbed her head furiously and tongued his cockhead. He saw stars and his balls tightened up. His love for his singular treasure rocketed into her willing throat. She lessened the vigor with which she’d been sucking and slowly came to a stop, still holding his softening member in her mouth. 

Jamie glanced down at her, love in his eyes and actions and murmured, “Open yer wee mouth, mo ghaol.” 

She complied and he pulled out and helped her up gently, freeing her hands and arms. 

They cuddled for a minute and Claire whispered, “Did you like it, Sweetie?”

He rumbled a giggle, “Uh, yeah, Sorcha, when I came, I saw black spots! And you? Did you enjoy yourself?”

Claire pulled back a bit and smiled, “Jesus, Jamie, the next time I come that hard, my girl parts may put it for disability or go into witness protection!” 

He burst out laughing and she joined him. They hugged and straightened their clothing. 

“Jamie, I don’t want you to shower, ok? When we take a break, I want to smell our raunch on you, okay?”

He pulled her to him and squeezed her luscious ass, “Only if you’ll not shower, mo tiodhlac luachmhor (my precious gift).” She grinned and they made the bed together.

The large man took a deep breath, “Purple,” he said quietly. 

Claire stiffened, “What is it, darling? Are you alright?” 

“Aye, I’m braw, mo chridhe. Ye’re a wee vixen, dressin’ like this to make me lose my fuckin’ mind, but I also know yer gorgeous girls arena gettin’ any support right now. As much as I like the look, I would feel better if ye brought a bra with ye.”

Claire smirked, “I was thinking you might say that,” and with a flourish, she pulled out the bra that matched her garter belt, and Jamie groaned in want. 

Just to fluster Jamie, she pushed it into her still-wet quim and wet it with her come. She stalked towards an open-mouthed Jamie and draped it around his neck. Jamie grabbed it and flung it onto the bed, but not before taking a deep appreciative sniff. 

He grabbed her chin and narrowed his eyes at her, “You’re a wee Devil, Sassenach. Ye’ll pay fer that! Back to the matter at hand,” he cleared his throat, “Sassenach, if anythin’ is even a wee bit uncomfortable for you, _promise me_ ye’ll put it on, aye? What about a sports bra?”

Her eyes twinkled, “I love that you’re thinking of me like this, Sweetheart. I actually altered this bra to support me better just this week, so I don’t need a sports bra at all. See?” She put his finger on the cup and retrieved a very snug sports bra from her drawer, “I ordered the fabric online and lined the cups with it as well as the chest strap. Sexy and utilitarian!” She smiled sweetly and gave him a thumbs up and Jamie dissolved into giggles. “Just think, if I need the bra, there’ll be more for you to play with!” He nearly choked when she said that and he grasped her arms and roughly picked her up and moved her a step away from him when she turned away from him and started rubbing her ass against his hard cock,

“No, Sorcha! Naughty girl!” He could hear her pout in her disappointed huff and enjoyed her squeal when she felt the sharp sting of a slap against her ass.


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay. In the scene we go, if ye’re ready, mo chridhe.” Jamie gently turned his world to face him and looked carefully at the stunning woman in front of him as she whispered her consent,

“I’m ready.” He grinned wolfishly, kissed her lips delicately and spun her around so her back was against his chest again. 

He took her wrists and held them tightly in one hand behind her back and forced her to palm his erection. He grabbed a handful of curls, yanked Claire’s head back painfully and smiled as she hissed in pain.

“My betrothed, you will do well to stop right there. I’ve gone to considerable expense and trouble to bring you here and I will brook no dissent from you.” 

“Your _what_ , my lord? I assure you; you are the furthest thing from my betrothed!”

Jamie snarled, “I would not say such things if I were you! Nothing that you do or say will prevent you from becoming my wife, my lady, my _property_.” 

Claire drew a sharp breath as she felt come drip onto her thighs. 

“I can make today pleasurable or painful. It all depends on you.”

Claire scoffed, “Your property? Never! My _pleasure_ , my lord, is for you to release me back to my family posthaste.”

“No. I repeat, that will never happen. I have you now and I will never let you go. When we are married and you are with child, we will inform our families and you will be unable to leave me. You are only 18, young and healthy. We will have many bairns.” 

His heart broke when she started to weep. “Please,” she begged, “Let me go. If I do not arrive by week’s end at my betrothed’s estate, he will look for me. When he finds us, he will kill you for dishonoring me. You will ruin my parents – You say you love me, but these are not the actions of a lover. Bring me to the nearest inn so I may correspond with him and I will make no mention of the reason for my delay. You have my word.”

“To whom are ye betrothed, my lady?” 

She lifted her chin, “Captain Jonathan Wolverton Randall of His Majesty’s Eighth Dragoons.” 

Jamie blanched when he heard that name. Jamie and Randall had served together and Randall had a reputation for being cruel to underlings. He had no issue with blaming others for his mistakes if his own nose stayed clean. Jamie had heard from a fellow soldier that Randall also had singular tastes in companionship. Jamie had dismissed it as gossip until a sunny afternoon he’d taken a ride. He guided Donas into a hollow he knew had a small stream when he heard sounds of muted crying and a struggle in the distance. He found Randall buggering a very young fellow soldier who was bleeding from his hindquarters, tied over a log, gagged and black and blue from a vicious beating. Jamie fought Randall for the young man’s sake and brought the soldier back for medical attention. Randall was issued a formal reprimand that left a permanent black mark on his record. Ever since that day, Randall had hated Jamie and had vowed he would revenge himself, no matter how long it took.

“Do you care for your betrothed, my lady?” Jamie regarded her carefully. 

She lifted her chin proudly and her lip curled in derision, “It isn’t any of your business how I feel about Captain Randall, Sir! Pray, do not forget yourself! It matters not what I think or how I feel. It is my parents’ wish that we marry, and I cannot go against them!”

“Claire, you said that I would ruin your parents if you don’t marry Randall. What did you mean by that?”

She lowered her eyes and could not look at him. 

She whispered, “I am their only child. Captain Randall is the only way for them to assure that their place in society will be guaranteed. Randall will be able to wipe out their debt and look after me financially. That and the fact that our parents are friends were deciding factors.”

“So, they’re selling you like stock to the highest bidder for financial security and to advance their place in polite society, is that it?” Jamie fought the anger that was bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

Claire’s only response were a few choked sobs and tears that slid down her beautiful face. 

“I know Randall and he is not what he seems. You will not be marrying him!”

She blanched at his tone and hesitated before addressing him in a shaking voice, “Please, tell me what you need to hear to release me. If it’s ransom you want, Captain Randall will pay it. Do you want me to beg?” Jamie became alarmed as she dropped to her knees, a wild look in her eyes. “Please, Sir, allow me to go. I do not wish to see you harmed; I just want to be free to join my – “ She swallowed hard, mouth trembling, “fiancé”

He reached down and carefullly pulled her upright.

She wriggled out of his grasp and ran to the other side of the bedroom. Focusing only on Claire, the predator licked his lips. Slowly, he stalked her, fists at his side. He would consume the beauty in front of him when he captured her. Claire saw the unmistakable message in his ice-blue eyes and shuddered. 

She’d been held here for two days by this red-haired razor-jawed giant who insisted that he loved her even though he’d only seen her a couple of times previously. “James, please, please release me. My parents are depending on me,” she begged, tearfully.

So far, he’d respected her wishes and left her alone at night, simply locking her in her bedchamber. He’d installed bars over the windows so she couldn’t escape the luxuriously appointed suite. She was determined that she would protect her virtue and her maidenhead at all costs. She put her hand on the doorknob and the scoundrel growled a warning. Ignoring him, Claire tore out of the door and slammed it in his face. _So that’s how she wanted to act_. _She would learn the consequences of defiance._ That was no skin off his nose. _He’d make sure to get his and be damn sure she got what she deserved,_ he thought with a laugh _._ He would find her, that he knew. His country hunting lodge’s exact location was known only to him and a few trustworthy old friends. He’d chosen the location because it was sufficiently remote and staffed with loyal, extremely well-paid people.

If she escaped him, it was of no consequence where she might try to hide. He had planned every building on the estate. He would allow her to think she had outwitted him for a little while. He smiled to himself and unhurriedly donned his weathered Fraser hunting kilt, a sark, a plain leather sporran and thick hose. He fumbled in a drawer and dropped a couple of things he might need in his sporran. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t in the house, but he checked all the rooms anyway. No Claire. 

Jamie had heard from friends weeks ago that Claire would pass through this area to meet her fiancé in two months’ time. He had a room ready for her and hired extra guards for the land around his lodge. Jamie had four of his men stop the coach and force her to come with them. 

She was brought into the parlor on her first night and given her a small plate of food and a generous portion of port, both of which she summarily threw into his face. He tried again to explain why he’d brought her to Lallybroch, in the Scottish Highlands, but she was not prepared in the least to listen. She jumped up and slapped him so hard that his head snapped back painfully. She’d tried to run from him and nearly made it to the front door, but he roared, gave chase, and caught her around the waist. He pulled her back to his chest and brought her arms in an X formation across her body, holding on to her wrists so she wouldn’t hurt herself. She kicked and screamed at him to let her go and fought him more, finally tiring out so much that she collapsed and slid down, sobbing, against his legs. He tenderly scooped her into his arms and brought his eun beag (little bird) to a sofa and let her cry herself to sleep in his arms. When her breaths were slow and measured, he brought her into her bedroom. He called for the lady’s maid he’d assigned to her and waited with his back turned while the girl undressed her mistress, gave her a quick sponge bath and wrapped her in a warm nightgown. When she was decent, Jamie picked her up and tucked her into bed and tenderly kissed her forehead. 

He remembered the first time he’d seen her, a year ago at a gala held by the Duke of Argyll. He was here when Hayes and Lesley, his estate managers, brought the invitation to him. He reluctantly accepted the invitation to the summer gala because it would have been rude to refuse. Jamie was standing with a couple of friends chatting and laughing. He stopped talking when he heard a wonderful, deep laugh that seemed to suffuse his heart with light. He searched out the origin and was thunderstruck at the tiny woman laughing with Lady Amelia. 

“Lads, who is that woman speaking with Lady Amelia?” Jamie’s friends chuckled and Angus Bowie nudged Jamie,

“Aye, a bhalaich, that’s Lady Claire Moriston. She’s the daughter of the Earl of Crofton. She’s 18, a bosom friend to the Lady Amelia, devilishly smart and too good for the likes o’ ye.” Angus grinned as if he’d said something particularly clever. Rupert crowed in laughter and slapped Angus on the back.

Claire was 5’4” a full foot shorter than Jamie, which suited him just fine. She had a strong chin, high cheekbones and had the most wonderful mahogany curls he’d ever seen. Her skin was a wonder, a pale ivory. Her eyes, though, were her most arresting feature. They were the color of aged whisky with gold highlights. Jamie was captivated. Her dress was a deep pink silk and framed her perfectly. She was one of the most desired dance partners that evening and never lacked for company. Claire was a bosom friend to the Duke’s daughter, Lady Amelia. Their friendship was unusual because Claire’s rank was lower than that of Amelia’s. However, the girls met by accident in a park after Claire’s English father bought Raunceston Hall when she was 15 and their friendship had blossomed from that day.

He walked quietly to the barn, directly across the lawn to the house under a sturdy covered walkway. He’d deliberately planned it this way so that in case of inclement weather or bad storms; the animals would be close for his staff. He opened the door and listened carefully for any movement or quiet weeping. Nothing. Her opportunity to escape him was over. He knew he would find her eventually. He started with the stalls. They would have been too easy, even for Claire. Of course, he didn’t see her. He checked the feed bins, just in case. Nope. He checked his tacksman’s workshop. Empty. Would she have gone into the hayloft? Just to be sure, he checked all corners of the downstairs. _Hmmm_. He opened the door and climbed the stairs. He arrived at the top of the stair and walked from one end of the hayloft to the other. No luck. 

“Claire?” He called, “come on out, my love. Let’s go on our ride, aye?” He was wondering if that would entice her into the open. 

Frowning, he thought absently about where a Claire would hide from a predator. There weren’t any shelves in here. The cupola? Sure, it was certainly sturdy enough up there, but it was very cramped. They never used the bell hanging there. It was just for show. No Claire there either. He descended the stairs, trying not to panic. He forced himself to breathe calmly. She wasn’t lost. She was home and safe. He rolled his shoulders and breathed out and in again. _Think, man_ , he castigated himself. _She’s playing with you. Where’s the last place she thinks you’ll look?_ Suddenly, he knew where she might be. He walked quietly into the old saddle storage room. There was a secret door built into the floor under a heavy worktable. How had she spied the opening? There in the shadows stood a trembling Claire. _Damn slippery female_. He hauled her out by her arms and held on to her until he was sure she had her feet securely under her.

“How did ye get in here, Claire?”

She remained silent, much to his annoyance and refused to look at him. She started backing away until she hit the wall. She pushed herself off, watching her adversary warily. He kept advancing on her, until he was only a few steps in front of her. She took her chance and ran to the door with a squeal. He caught her easily and hoisted her over his shoulder. She struggled to escape, and he growled a warning low in his throat. He flipped her skirt up and rubbed her bare ass, making her squeal and kick, and making the large man groan at the sight of now-exposed garter belt. Her lace garter belt ([https://www.etsy.com/listing/769968145/silk-croche-lingerie-belt-with-garters?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=silk+garter+belt&ref=sr_gallery-2-7&col=1](https://www.etsy.com/listing/769968145/silk-croche-lingerie-belt-with-garters?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=silk+garter+belt&ref=sr_gallery-2-7&col=1))

cradled her hips. He gasped when he saw a red crystal heart nestled on top of her anal cleft, shining in the light. He loved the feeling of her beautiful skin, bared only for him. He slapped her viciously on the ass and she howled in despair. He gave her five more hard spanks on the ass, ignoring her cries and screams. Nobody could hear her but him. He knew it and she knew it. He lowered her until he could hold her on her stomach in his arms and soothed the spank marks with his tongue, making Claire wriggle in horror. He put her on his shoulder again and strode through the door into his workroom. She started struggling again, pulled his hair and tried to kick him. 

He slapped her ass again and snarled, “submit, before I get angry.” He put her down in the chair across from his table carefully, making sure to support the back of her neck with his hand. As soon as he stepped back, she kicked out at him and the toe of her boot caught his inner thigh. He staggered backward, automatically protecting his genitals. She sprang up and somehow managed to run and mount Donas, his black stallion, who was saddled and waiting for his master.

She yelled “Hiaaa, boy, let’s go!” and Donas rocketed out onto the field surrounding the barn as if she’d lit a fire under him. 

Jamie finally managed to stand up and watched her in awe. He shook his head and ran to get his second-fastest horse, Donas’ mate, the red mare Stoirmeil (Stormy). He led her quickly out of the stall and saddled her. 

He leapt into the saddle and gave her the command, “Stormeil, rachaibh lorg Donas (Stormy, go find Donas)! She nickered and took off after her mate. 

Jamie knew that the mare would find Donas and just focused on scanning the terrain for Claire in case she’d been unseated. Stormy ran down the hill towards the main road. Jamie dreaded the thought of the woman he loved finding that road, because it was a popular haunt for highwaymen. Claire would not be able to defend herself against such men. 

Jamie had almost caught up to her when he whistled for Donas and shouted “stad (stop)!” Donas stopped so abruptly Jamie feared Claire would be thrown. She was still seated, though, and tried to get Donas to run, but the horse didn’t move. She jumped down and ran towards the safety of the woods. Jamie slid off Stormy and ran after her in relief. 

He shouted, “Claire, stop! lass, please!”

The stubborn wee thing kept running, dammit! He swore and leapt, knocking her off her feet into the moss-covered ground. She howled in rage and kicked, scratched, and bit him. She got her fingernails into either side of his tender neck and dug in. He howled in agony and she used his distraction to punch him in his solar plexus, which knocked the wind from his lungs. He straddled her and sat down on her legs, rendering her immobile. 

She slapped him again and he bellowed, “try that again and I’ll slap ye until yer ears ring!” He immobilized her hands and shouted, “Claire, lass, no! I don’t want ta hurt ye, please, love, stop fightin’!” 

She screamed, enraged, in his face, “I will NEVER submit to the likes of you!” 

The final straw came when she spit in his face. He stared at her, not willing to believe that this wisp of a woman had dared such a thing. He lowered his head to warn her and she popped up and head-butted him. He fell backwards, screamed in pain, and clutched his head, blood trickling into his face. She rolled out from under him and ran towards Stoirmeil. _Oh, God, not again_. He staggered after her and caught her after a few seconds. She never stopped fighting him. He spun her to face him and then everything moved in slow-motion. He heard himself shouting at her to calm, but she was insensible, beyond able to hear him. He pushed her up against a thick oak tree, yanking her hands above her head. He extinguished her struggles by pressing his body against hers. He grabbed her curls, yanked her head back and sank his lips onto hers, caressing her tongue with his until she fought him for control. She cried out her breathless distress into his mouth and writhed, feeling a strange gush of wet between her legs. He never removed his hands from her upper arms, but he did step back. He saw the horrified look on her face and begged,

“Please, mo nighean donn, I’m sorry! Please, promise ye’ll stay wi’ me until I can explain what I mean about Randall. I promise, I’ll let ye go after that, aye?”

She nodded quickly, a frightened look on her face. She turned a dark scarlet before she burst into tears and his heart disintegrated into dust. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

He gathered her in his arms and sank below the great oak, “Please, my lady, trust me when I say Jack Randall is not the man you belong with. I served with that man and he is evil, with his unnatural tastes.”

She breathed quietly, “Unnatural tastes?”

“Aye, Claire.” Still holding her firmly, Jamie recounted the tale of finding Randall in the woods with the unfortunate soldier. 

She was crying when he finished, burying her head into his strong shoulder. He released her wrists and kissed and massaged them.

“Oh, James, that poor soldier. Did he recover?”

He looked at her tenderly, “Aye, mo chridhe, dinna fash. He’s fine now.” 

He kissed her forehead gently and rocked her in his arms. 

He shrugged off his plaid and covered them with it, “There ye go, Sorcha. Lean yer wee head back and close yer eyes fer me, aye? Relax, mo ghaol.” 

She looked up at him, “So you kidnapped me to save me, James?”

He nodded. “Ye can call me Jamie if ye like, Claire. Ma friends and family do.” 

She blinked and said, “Thank you, Jamie, for saving me.” 

She yawned and scratched his chest with her fingers, making him emit a rumbling purr, just like a great cat. He watched as her eyes closed and soon, she sagged in his arms, fully relaxed, looking like an angel fallen to Earth. He kissed her head and drifted into sleep with her.

Two days later, he knocked on her door. She opened the door cautiously and smiled to see Jamie. Behind him stood some of the maids. 

“Move Miss Moriston’s things down to the guest room at the beginning of the hall, please.” 

At her invitation, he entered and offered to escort her down to the breakfast room. 

She smiled shyly, “Yes, Jamie, I’d like that, thank you.”

He swallowed hard and stepped closer. She was in a cream dress with amber lace accents and looked absolutely stunning. Her sweet scent of lavender and vanilla made his knees wobble a bit. He tucked her tiny hand in the crook of his arm and led her carefully downstairs.

They settled in the breakfast room and Jamie insisted on serving Claire. He piled a plate high with eggs, ham, bannocks, jam, and butter and served her first, as his Mam had taught him – guests first. He served himself and asked if he could sit next to her so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice to be heard. She smiled her agreement and he sat down next to her, blushing red. 

“Claire, I’d like to apologize for how I’ve treated you. I never considered how frightened you might be, not knowing me. Of course, I will return you to your family posthaste. Please know, I have loved you from afar for a long while and would do anything to keep you out of Randall’s hands.” He cleared his throat nervously,

“To that end, I have contacted my banker in London and he will communicate with your father,” Jamie couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice at the man who had nearly sold his child into matrimony, “clear his debts and set him up with five thousand pounds a year, freeing you to live the life you deserve, and, most importantly, want for yourself.”

He looked at Claire and became alarmed, seeing her chin wobble, “Oh, Jamie, thank you!” 

She ran to him, launched herself into his surprised arms and sobbed in relief. He was so overwhelmed that he only held her and rubbed soothing circles on her back, murmuring endearments in the Gàidhlig into her soft curls until she could collect herself.

They agreed that, for her safety, she would stay with him until it was sure that her father’s debts had been paid off. As part of the contract, Lord Moriston had to sign a clause that said that he would never again try to force Claire to marry someone she did not love. Jamie wrote to his solicitor and included two copies of a letter Claire wrote, stating her free-will desire to remain at Lallybroch until her father’s debts were settled. During that time, Claire and Jamie got to know each other as real people, not as a perfect idol or a frightening captor; and a true friendship blossomed. They became each other’s favorite companion. Jamie taught Claire how to play chess and then pretended to be irritated when she started winning games. Claire just laughed in his face. 

He grinned wryly after she’d decimated him one afternoon and drawled, “Sassenach, if we were married, I’d have ta take ye over my knee and spank ye into showing yer lord and master some respect!” 

She only laughed harder and collapsed onto the couch next to him, which made him start laughing as well. He took her fishing and camping and showed her how to track animals, set snares and skin the animals caught in the snares. She also learned how to gut and roast fish over a fire. 

Claire showed Jamie crochet and cross-stitching and Jamie discovered he was quite good at it. She got him to try coffee for the first time, which he liked very much, with cream and sugar. He discovered that Claire had an interest in healing, and he gave her the abandoned saddle room in the barn as a work room and clinic. She took him with her when she went to gather her “wee herbs,” as he teasingly called them. He kept doing this even after she playfully seized the shell of his ear and pressed harmlessly on it with her thumb and forefinger, pretending to hurt him. 

He played along, howling, making a great racket in his mock pain. “My what, you great red oaf?” 

Of course, she would try to look angry and imperious, but since she had to get up on a chair to pinch him (that he would hold steady for her, of course), he couldn’t keep a straight face and neither could she. He’d gently lift her down and they’d collapse on the floor in giggles. Mrs. Crook and Mrs. Fitz, working together in another part of the house, heard the scrape of the chair first, followed by her squeals and his deep laughter and looked at each other knowingly. Claire made up many jars of salve and had the stable boys out looking for wild honey and easily recognizable herbs when they had time. She tended to everyone at the lodge, including the crofters and Jamie himself. She shook her head in dismay and tut-tutted like an exasperated mother hen when he would literally darken her doorstep and grin sheepishly, holding out an arm or whatever body part he’d hurt this time. Claire would mutter, “By all that’s holy!” and roll her eyes, patting the examination bed with a smile. When Claire discovered that Mrs. Crook thought a fault in the ovens was causing many of Jamie’s staff to get burned, she talked to him about it. Two days later, new ovens were installed and the injury incidents decreased sharply. 

“Claire, somethin’ has been troublin’ me the last days.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you think Mrs. Crook wouldn’t tell me about the problem with the ovens? Is she afraid ta speak ta me?” 

“I don’t think it’s that, Jamie. Its just, well, I’m a woman and I understand more of what it means to take care of a household. I am familiar with issues that can arise, like injury. You are the Laird, and she might not have wanted to seem like she was complaining.”

Jamie wrinkled his handsome brow in thought, “So, ye don’ think Mrs. Crook is afraid o’ me?”

Claire chuckled, “Jamie, any woman who tells a man your size to bathe because he stinks like ‘a rat covered in sheep’s dung’ and to clean his plate or “she’ll know the reason why’ as she does is most definitely not afraid of that man.” 

She smirked and couldn’t help imitating him, “Dinna fash, man!” She crossed her eyes at him and he burst out laughing, tension broken.

They went on excursions together, sometimes exploring the lands surrounding the lodge, sometimes to town. He insisted on buying her fabric for a few dresses and pretty silk ribbons for her hair. She would always try to buy fabric on sale or even put his money back in his sporran until he’d cock a ginger eyebrow at her. 

She’d finally sigh loudly and dramatically, lowering her voice and dripping out, “Thank you, my lord!” and reluctantly defer to his wishes. 

One day, she bought a navy-blue ribbon with her own money and quickly clipped a lock of his hair. She tied it up with the new ribbon and placed it into her pocket with a smile. And then, she stuck her tongue out at her friend, just to try to make him laugh. It did and they collapsed back into the brougham, tears of mirth wetting their cheeks. Sometimes when Jamie had to go overnight on business, Claire would sneak off with a male bodyguard and bring Jamie books she’d found in town, which always pleased him greatly. Three months passed, allowing Jamie and Claire to become accustomed to a new normal. The stiffness and fear of their preliminary interactions had been usurped by an easy banter spiced with many laughs and comfort. 

On a stormy Monday, MacLeod brought the mail from town. The last letter was the one Jamie had been dreading the most.

My Dear Lord Broch Tuarach,

It is with great pleasure and profound relief that we may report that Lord Moriston has faithfully discharged all his debts and signed the codicil stipulating that he will never again force the Lady Claire into matrimony not of her own choosing. Her family is most anxious to welcome her home and request that she be ready to be picked up by her father on Tuesday, May 24, 1741.

Yours Faithfully,

A.J. Abercrombie, Esq.,

Abercrombie and Alpin Ltd.

Jamie cursed and angry tears came to his eyes. The extended, relaxed time with Lady Claire had not cooled his ardor one spark. Rather, it had stoked it into a raging wildfire and he knew, without a doubt, that he well and truly loved her. He drank down a quick shot of courage and went to find his beloved, who wouldn’t be his for very much longer; only one more week. His shoulders slumped and he felt like his joy had been sucked out of him. He felt lost and afraid. What would he do without her? How could he go back to his solitary existence after having the sun shining in his heart these last months? He resignedly folded the letter and went to find her, one leaden step after another.

Per usual, he found her in her wee workspace, tending to a farmer’s wife who occasionally helped Mrs. Crook in the kitchen or Mrs. Fitz in the household. She looked up and smiled at him and his heart sank. He put on a brave face as the farmer’s wife curtsied to him as she went out the door.

“Claire, dear, a letter came today.” He held it out to her, unable to say anything more.

“Jamie, what’s wrong?” She looked at him, her brows drawn together in worry as she saw his eyes, red-rimmed with unshed tears.

She unfolded the letter and read quickly, a hand raised to her mouth as she sank down onto her stool in distress.

She looked up, a wild, unhinged look in her eye, “Oh, no, no no, no! Jamie, I don’t want to leave you! Please don’t make me go back, please! I’m happy for the first time in my life, here with you!” She sobbed and threw the letter into the fire, “There! Now nobody can prove we got the letter! It’s been destroyed!”

She ran to him and he opened his arms. 

She clung to him and whispered tearfully, “Please, let me stay.”

Tears rolled from his face into her hair. 

She whispered, “I love you, Jamie.” His breath hitched at the words he’d longed to hear.

Despairing, he cried even harder, whispering hoarsely, “And I ye, mo Sorcha, always.”

They held on to each other for a while longer and then agreed, sadly, to make the best of it. The week flew by, to Jamie and Claire’s dismay. He knew that the only way for her to remain with him was to marry. But, would she take such a step so soon? What would her father say? He didn’t know Jamie and it didn’t seem that Lord Moriston was particularly concerned about what Claire wanted at all. Of course, she was still engaged to that bastard, Randall. He resolved to talk to her before the week was up, but every time he tried to get her alone, something would prevent it; either a problem with an injured estate worker, which Claire took care of, or something on the estate itself, which Jamie had to tend to. He finally asked Mrs. Crook to ensure that they were not disturbed by anyone on her last morning with him, which was the following morning.

It did not take long for her maid to pack most of her things. Claire packed her medical instruments and herbs herself. The last day dawned and Jamie got up before the rooster in the yard. He hadn’t slept at all but had cried himself into exhaustion. He read for a while and got dressed. He knocked on Claire’s door to ask her to accompany him to breakfast. He’d made the decision to talk to her today and suggest handfasting.

He waited for a bit and knocked again, “Claire, lass? It’s time to get up for breakfast.”

He was straining to listen for her slight snore or any movement within the room. Her chambermaid finally came up and opened the door. Her bed was empty, her riding boots and her heavy woolen cloak were missing and her chest sat locked, waiting to be taken downstairs. Just as he was turning to leave the bedroom, he spied a letter on the neatly made bed with his name on the outside with her familiar spidery scrawl. He popped the wax seal with his finger and something made a “sssshsst” sound as it fell from the paper. He bent down to retrieve it and saw that it was a tawny ribbon he’d gifted her, with a gleaming lock of her hair tied into it. His eyes blurred with tears as he kissed the hair and tucked it lovingly into his waistcoat pocket. He read the letter with trembling hands and a pounding heart,

“Jamie, my love, thank you for this time together. You are the love of my life and we are meant to be together. I will not return to my father’s house, for I no longer trust him. I wrote to my father explaining that I love you and wanted to stay here. He refused outright and said I had better be ready to go today; I was not old enough to know my mind or what was best for me. As you may well imagine, his response frightened me greatly, so I felt I had no choice but to leave. I have left a letter in the parlor for him explaining that this was my decision to leave, and not to try to find me. I have some money of my own, as well as the money you made me keep that was left from our excursions into town, so please don’t worry about me. Just understand that I love you and I am leaving you to protect you. Please don’t try to find me.

Yours Faithfully,

Claire Moriston


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Jamie kissed the letter and could smell her scent on the leaf of paper. He put it in his pocket and ran to the dining room and saw the letter for Moriston. He took it and locked it into his study and explained to Mrs. Crook what happened. She suggested he take some food and drink and a couple of blankets, in case the search took a long time. He agreed and went to saddle Donas. Mrs. Crook came out with blankets and a small mountain of food, which he gratefully accepted and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She blushed and told him to “go on.” He reached Donas and noticed that the great horse was agitated. Jamie tried to soothe him as best he could. Donas would not even accept an apple or one of Claire’s cinnamon butter cookies. It was then that Jamie felt his stomach sink. Something was really wrong. He walked into the mares’ wing – Stormeil was missing. Jamie smiled, because Claire knew that Donas would stop at nothing to find or protect his mate. Jamie ran back to Donas and told him to find Stormeil and the horse took off like the Devil himself was chasing him. Four hours later, Jamie was hoarse from shouting for Claire and bone tired. He hobbled a worn-out Donas and made a fire. He wandered over to the nearby stream and guddled two salmon. He cleaned and spitted them, roasting them over the fire. He ate his fill and set the rest aside and settled down to sleep. Sometime later, he started awake as he heard Donas whickering and stomping his hoof. Jamie lay still – he heard another horse approaching and wanted to be able to surprise the intruder. The man must not have been very big, for he had soft footsteps. Jamie heard him crouch in front of the fire and start eating the roast salmon. Jamie rolled over and in a flash, knocked the unknown assailant onto his back,

“By all that’s holy!” swore the man. Jamie banged the man’s wrist into the dirt until he dropped his dagger.

Slowly, the phrase the man had uttered filtered into Jamie’s sleep-addled brain,

“Claire?”

“JAMIE?” And Jamie was nearly choked by the delicate arms hugging his neck. 

He sat up and whispered, “Och Claire, mo chridhe, it’s so good ta see ye, thank God ye’re alright!”

She loosed her death grip from his neck and said, “Jamie, you can’t tell anyone – “

He gently laid his fingers on her soft lips and blushed, “Claire, please, listen to me. I have an idea that can force your father to let you stay with me.”

“You do?” She cried, “Oh, Jamie!” 

He said, “Aye, mo ghaol. Have ye heard of ‘handfasting’?”

“No. What’s that?”

“’Tis an old Scottish custom where a couple can say vows and they are essentially engaged. They live as husband and wife for a year and a day. At the end of that time, they decide if they want to stay together or not.”

“Jamie, I’d like to do it. At least then, they can’t foist me off on someone I don’t love.” 

“Do ye not trust yer father to abide by the agreement, mo ghaol?”

“No, I don’t. I begged Father not to make me accept Randall but he forced me to anyway. He said if I didn’t comply with his wishes that he would send me away and I could never see Mama again!” Tears came to her eyes and dripped down her cheeks.

Jamie gathered her tenderly in his arms, “Shhh, love, they can’t hurt ye now. I’m here and I’ll protect ye, aye? Come here, my calman geal.”

They embraced for a while and then to Claire’s surprise, Jamie got down on one knee and said,

“Mo Sorcha, I’ve loved ye since the day I saw ye. Will ye be my wife, an’ make me the happiest man in the world?”

Claire blushed crimson and whispered, “Yes, a thousand times, yes. I’ll be your wife, Jamie!” She sank onto her knees and clasped his outstretched hand. With his left hand, he dug a size 4 (14.9 mm) gold ring out of his waistcoat pocket. The ring had an oval topaz that perfectly complemented Claire’s eyes. A halo of diamonds around the topaz were embedded in the band. He kissed her fingers and slid the ring on her ring finger. She breathed,

“Oh, Jamie, it’s stunning, thank you, my love!”

“My pleasure, Sorcha. Are ye ready to say our vows now? I think it’ll be easier if I say them in English. Ye just have to repeat after me, aye?”

“Yes, that’s fine, Jamie. I’m ready!” She smiled and happiness twinkled in her eyes. They faced each other and clasped hands. Jamie rumbled,

“Ye are Blood of my Blood and Bone of my Bone

I give ye my Body, that we Two may be One.

I give ye my Spirit, ‘til our Life be done”

Claire repeated every line back to him, tears in both their eyes. 

Jamie wiped tears from his eyes and added, “Claire, now that we are husband and wife, ye have my name, my clan, my family and, if necessary, the protection of my body. I will love and cherish you for the rest of your life, mo nighean.”

Overcome with love for her new husband, Claire swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered, “I will love and protect your heart and soul for all of my days on this Earth, Jamie, and for eternity afterwards.” Claire got up on her tiptoes and Jamie bent his head towards his wife. They kissed gently and both felt an electric shock burn a trail down their spines. Shuddering with want, they pulled apart, gasping. 

“What was that?”

“I don’ rightly know, mo chridhe. I felt an electric shock when I kissed ye.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Claire blushed and stammered, “M-maybe we should kiss again to see if the shock comes again?”

“Aye, fear beag (little one). Come here and kiss me some more!” Jamie smiled and gently pulled his wife into his arms and they kissed again. This time, Claire squealed and pulled away, the energy exchange was so powerful. Jamie, panting, ran a hand through his curls in frustration,

“Claire, how is this possible? What does it mean?”

“How should I know? I’ve never kissed anyone but you - for the first time a few minutes ago!” She sighed, “Maybe if we, well,” and she blushed, “took the next step,” and she blushed even harder, “that might, uh, well, that is to say – “

Jamie knew what she was trying to say and blushed too, “I-I haven’t kissed anyone or done any of these things before, either, Claire, but I know what ye’re tryin’ ta say, mo ghaol. He sat down on a log and eyed her curiously, “Where have ye been today?”

She grinned, “Well, to be honest, I found an abandoned croft and was sleeping for most of the day.” 

His mouth fell open in surprise. Leave it to Claire to find shelter in an unfamiliar place! 

He turned her around gently, “Look, the sun is already setting. Let’s eat and get ready to head home tomorrow, my Lady Broch Tuarach, an’ ye can show me yer wee hideout.”

Jamie caressed her silken cheek, leaned down and kissed her hand gallantly. They went down to the stream together and caught three fish. Claire gutted and prepared them with some wild ramps and garlic she found and Jamie roasted them. Claire set out some of the bountiful food Mrs. Crook sent with Jamie, laughing in delight at their largesse. They ate heartily and shared Jamie’s whisky flask. Soon, it was nearing dark, and they rode the horses to Claire’s hideout by following the stream. As soon as Jamie saw it, he realized it must be the old MacDonald place. The MacDonalds had left their croft after two failed harvests a few months earlier for better chances in Canada. It was a small croft with just a snug shed large enough for the horses, but the roof looked sound. The fireplace looked like it would work which was a relief to Claire. Claire found a broom in a corner and swept the floor and fireplace .as best she could. She heaped their bedrolls on the old mattress, trying to make their first bed as comfortable as possible. As a last step, she pulled an old, worn-out shift out of her saddlebag and laid it on top of the blanket they would lie on. Jamie took care of the horses and Claire brought their things inside and stored the food in the kitchen. Jamie left Claire for a few minutes with his dirk at her side and collected some firewood while she made up the bed. He returned a bit later with plenty of wood and built a cracking fire that warmed up the croft quite quickly. Claire bolted the door and they looked shyly at one another, neither very sure how to step into the bond that would seal them together forever as husband and wife. 

Jamie looked down at the bed and saw the old shift spread over the ersatz mattress, “Claire, what’s the shift doing here? We’ll dirty it if we lie on it.”

Claire blushed, “Well, that’s, uh, what it’s for. When a girl has her first time, she usually bleeds a bit. I put that old shift there for that purpose – to protect the other blankets, but also,” she blushed even redder, “so that we could prove to my father that we consummated the marriage, you see? Mrs. Crook or Mrs. Fitz can examine me if he doesn’t take the shift as enough evidence. They’ll be able to tell that I’m no longer a virgin.”

Jamie hugged her gently, “Mo nighean, thank you so much fer thinkin’ o’ that. I’ll make sure to bring that wi’ us tomorrow.”

Claire smiled and looked sheepishly at her husband, “Jamie, I’m not sure how to start,” Claire blushed bright red.

Jamie’s blush was even hotter than his wife’s, “Weel, my Da had a talk about this with me. I suppose the first thing is to get yer skirts and such off so ye can be more comfortable.”

“That’s a good idea, love. Will you help me, please?”

“Aye, mo Sorcha. Here.” He turned her around and untied her skirt, cursing at her bodice laces and stomacher. Her clothing fell away and soon she was only in her shift.

“Sorcha, will ye let me see ye? I would like it.”

“Of course, Jamie; it is your right as my husband.” She smiled.

“No, Claire, dinna show me because it is my right; show me because you want to, aye? I don’t want to push ye into anything ye’re not ready fer. If ye want to wait until we are home or even until we are wed in a kirk, we can do that.” He looked at her carefully, willing her to pick up on his calm energy.

“Jamie, I want to show you. Come here, darling.”

She untied the ribbon of the shift and it floated to her feet. He extended his hand and helped her to step clear of it. 

His greedy eyes roamed over her nubile form and he croaked out, “Ye are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, Claire.”

“Have you never seen a naked woman before?”

“Aye, I have. But not one so beautiful, so close and certainly, not one that’s mine, until now, mo ghaol.” 

He took a hesitant step towards her clearing his throat, which felt like it was lined with sandpaper, “M-may I touch ye, Claire?”

The goddess stepped closer and nodded her head. Slowly, Jamie reached out a hand and barely ghosted his fingers on her breast. His cock became rock-hard under his kilt and Claire breathed through her husband’s first intimate touch. He gently rested his huge hand on her hipbone, prominent over the valley of her concave belly which was fluttering with excited butterflies. He pulled her closer and trailed his free hand over her other breast and her neck. He pressed a gentle kiss on her sternal notch and made his way up her ivory neck, groaning in want. He kissed her mouth and threaded his strong fingers into her curls, pulling her head back slightly to expose the un-kissed side of her neck. He reversed course and kissed from her lips to her neck and back to her sternal notch. 

Claire moaned and breathed, “Oh, Jamie, that feels so good. I want to see you and make you feel good as well.”

Jamie rumbled, “Och, ye already are, mo nighean donn, dinna fash!” He quickly removed his sword belt and kilt belt, which hit the floor with a metallic thud. His hose and boots were next and then he was naked in front of his beloved.

Claire giggled and trailed her hands down his neck to his chest and swirled her fingers around his nipples, drawing a gasp from the redhead in front of her. She watched, fascinated, as his nipples pebbled just as hers did in a cool breeze. She urged him to kneel by pressing down on his shoulders, and she followed him. 

She hesitantly took a nipple in her mouth and swirled her tongue around, making her husband groan, “Oh, Claire, feels amazing!”

She smiled and gasped as she felt a flood of wetness on her inner thighs. She trailed down his chest to his well-defined abdominal muscles, drawing her warm tongue horizontally over the muscle ridges, kissing him wetly and listening to Jamie’s breath devolve into ragged panting. She looked down at his member, jutting out from his center, proud and firm. She scooted away from him a bit and gently traced her fingers in a figure eight pattern over the silky skin, wondering at how something so hard could be so soft at the same time. She stroked his penis with her thumbs on the top and bottom surfaces, thankful that her mother had prepared her for her wedding night, not believing as many others of her time did that women should just lie there; Claire had learned about the human body and how to please her husband. She also knew that initial penetration would likely be painful and bloody; not at all like in the romance novels so popular among young women. As Jamie still towered over Claire, even when he was on his knees, she was at the perfect height to play with him. He groaned and writhed, moaning out, “Oh, Claire, a Dhia, that’s incredible; please dinna stop!” She smiled and licked the tip of his penis and Jamie shouted in ecstasy. She eased her fingers between his legs and tickled his testicles, unprepared for what happened next,

“Ach, God, Claire, lass, I canna hold back any longer! Jamie’s handsome face contorted and he growled in pleasure as precum shone on his cockhead. She fingered it in wonder. It was slick! Delighted with her result, Claire used the ejaculate as a lubricant. She wiped it on her other hand and used that hand to massage up and down his hot shaft. Jamie was shaking trying to stay upright, so Claire pushed him gently onto his haunches. He sank down gratefully and she continued pumping him. She soon added her mouth and tongue and watched as Jamie’s eyes rolled back in his head. She licked him and moaned. Jamie was sure he was going to die of an apoplexy from the strong feelings coursing through him. 

“Lass, stop, come, let’s to bed,” Jamie breathed.

Claire looked at him, “To bed, or to sleep?”

Jamie looked at her and smiled, “Well...” and took her hand. He led her to the bed and she got on her back and spread her legs for him, whispering,

“Love me, Jamie, please.”

“Aye, mo nighean donn, I will. Jamie crawled onto the bed and straddled his wife, kissing her with all his passion and devotion. She moaned her approval into his mouth and he licked her bottom lip gently, asking for entry. She gave it, and their tongues danced together for the first of many nights. Jamie caressed Claire’s breasts and licked her nipples experimentally, delighted when she groaned his name and bucked her pelvis towards the sky. He sucked on her nipple as she had on his and moaned at her taste. Her ivory skin shone in the moonlight beams coming through the curtainless windows. It beckoned him and all he wanted to do was show her how much he adored her. 

His warm hand splayed over her concave stomach and massaged her, making her beg “Please, husband, take me now!”

He smiled and whispered, “No, mo nighean, I want ta watch ye.” 

He squeezed her hipbones and brought her legs up, laying them on his shoulders. Jamie leaned down and breathed warm breath onto her honeypot and she sighed in need,

“Oh, Jamie, Jamie!” He smiled and gently traced her labia with his fingers, marveling at the slick wetness coating them and her inner thighs. Some of it even dripped down and started a wet spot on the blanket. He took his pinkie finger and slowly parted her glistening lips and Claire gasped in surprise.

Jamie withdrew his finger quickly, “Did I hurt ye, mo ghaol?” he asked anxiously.

“Oh, no, no, Jamie, that feels wonderful. I was just surprised. I’m sorry for startling you. Please continue!”

Happy, Jamie parted her nether lips with his index finger and just rubbed the interior of the lips themselves.

Claire whined, “More, husband, more!” and Jamie smiled proudly. He carefully inserted his finger in her tunnel, wondering at how snug it was. How would his tossel ever fit? Claire flexed her legs and bowed her back and Jamie started moving his finger in and out of her channel. She cried out and Jamie’s finger was coated in a flood of warmth. He withdrew his finger and showed Claire her own wetness. Her eyes were golden fire, half-closed in ecstasy. She smiled and opened her mouth and moaned. He looked at her, shocked. He inserted his finger in her mouth and she lasciviously cleaned it, moaning and licking, sucking and nibbling until Jamie’s cock was so hard it hurt. 

He gasped, ”Please, mo Sorcha, will ye have me now?”

She looked at him and nodded, “Yes, Jamie, I’ll have you.” 

“I’ll make this as pleasant as I can, mo leannan.”

“I know you will, my love, go ahead, I love you and I trust you.”J

Jamie settled himself on his forearms and arranged himself between her legs. He mounted her and groaned at how warm and wet she was. He stilled for a moment; he didn’t want to spill his seed too soon. He slowly started rocking himself forward a bit, then back, then a little more forward, until he touched her barrier with the tip of his cock. He pulled back a bit and knew that no matter what he did, it would hurt Claire, even if a little. He stretched up and captured her delicate throat with his teeth and sucked, licked and nibbled on her, making her pant and writhe. He worried her nipple with his mouth, making sure to lick and suck on it to distract her. She cried out in pleasure and tossed her head back and forth. He lashed her nipple with his tongue and scraped it with his teeth. She moaned loudly and he felt another hot rush of fluid bathe his cock. He took Claire’s mouth in a passionate kiss, surged forward, felt her barrier tear and held himself in place. He swallowed her scream and kept kissing her until she moved her head away for air.

“I’m sorry I hurt ye, mo chridhe, can ye please fergive yer clumsy husband?”

She looked up at him, eyes shining, “There’s nothing to forgive, my darling. My mother took me aside when my father was gone on business and explained how wedding nights work so I wasn’t surprised or afraid. So, please, don’t worry. You made me feel wonderful.”

Jamie smiled in relief, “Thank ye, Sorcha. Let’s hang the old shift ta dry and then clean up and go ta sleep, aye?”

“Yes, let’s – but I think I better keep the shift under me to catch any fluids. I’ll just clean up in the morning.”

“Alrigh’ mo ghaol. Jamie got up and cleaned himself up and climbed back in bed. She snuggled against him and he held her securely in his strong arms. Soon, quiet had descended upon the croft and the only sound to be heard was the babbling of the nearby stream and the crackling of the fire. Thus passed the first night of the union between James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser and his wife, Claire Elizabeth Moriston Fraser.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super-short chapter but I felt badly about not working on this fic for a bit. As always, constructive comments are welcome. Nastygrams are not. In case I don't post again before the actual holiday, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Eid, Happy Everything! 
> 
> As someone who's worked in customer service of one kind or another for about ten thousand years, please remember that service workers are people, too. They're giving up time with their loved ones so we can get what we need and want this holiday season. Please remember to be kind!

At sunup, they packed up and headed back to the house. _Lord Moriston would be waiting for them at the house._ Jamie thought to himself with a shudder. They arrived at the house, surprised and relieved not to see Lord Moriston. One of the houseboys hurried out and handed Jamie a letter from Lord Moriston

Dear Laird Broch Tuarach,

I apologize for not meeting on our appointed day. I was unavoidably detained. I will arrive tomorrow. Please have Claire ready.

With thanks,

Moriston

Jamie read the letter aloud to his wife and they hugged each other fiercely, blessed in one more day together. Jamie busied himself in his study; doing anything to distract him from tomorrow and the steadily growing lead ball in his wame. He brought his sword and dirk to Sean Innes and asked him to make them sharp enough to slice through iron. 

Innes began his task while the laird waited and said quietly, “M’laird, the staff know who’s coming tomorra. Some of the menfolk ha’ decided ta be at the ready, should ye need us. We will stay in the kitchen. Ye only need whistle sharp and high like ye do fer callin’ us all ta eat at the summer picnic and we will come, aye? More will be guarding the edges of the estate. We shan’t let Her Grace off the property.” 

Jamie swallowed heavily at this unexpected show of support and clapped Innes on the shoulder, “I thank ye, Innes. I will do tha’.”

The older man tested the blades and deemed them sharp enough to “slice the whisker off an ant” and handed both carefully to his master. 

He looked up at Jamie with a sly grin, “Don’ be thinkin’ it’s cause o’ you we are doin’ this. ‘Tis true, we like ye fine, but the Mistress’ cinnamon butter cookies – we’d be sore aggrieved not ta have those anymore!”

Jamie looked at the other man, eyes wide in shock. He saw that Innes was teasing him and bellowed with laughter. Innes laughed back, green eyes crinkling in his worn face, taking 20 years off his countenance. Jamie clapped Innes on the back and left him to finish his work for the day. Jamie strolled back to the house in search of Claire.

Claire had gone upstairs to wash and change her clothes. She sat in front of her vanity, brushing out her curls, salty tears carving tracks into her fair cheeks. _Tomorrow Father will be here_ , she thought, sadly. Claire was frightened of what her father might do to her when he found out that she and Jamie were handfast. 

Jamie found her in their room, crying out her broken heart.

He crouched beside her on her vanity chair, “Mo nighean donn, why’re ye cryin’?”

She just cried harder at his question, “Oh, Jamie, I don’t want to leave you!”

He picked her up and cradled her to his chest, “Shhhh, mo leannan, I promise, ye aren’t goin’ anywhere. Ye are my wife an’ that shall never change, aye?”

“Promise me, Jamie, I’ll never be without you.” 

He kissed the top of her head and sat them carefully in the overstuffed chair by the fire so Claire could keep warm enough in her shift, “Aye, mo chridhe, we will be together forever, dinna fash.” He pulled a Fraser plaid from the back of the chair and wrapped it around them. Soon, he felt her heart rhythm even out and she relaxed completely in his embrace. The couple dozed by the fire until Mrs. Fitz came to wake them for dinner, knocking softly on the chamber door. Jamie got up and laid his wife carefully in their bed. He opened the door quietly, “Mrs, Fitz, I am sorry ta trouble ye. Claire has been upset an’ is finally sleepin’. Would ye please bring dinner up here?”

“Och, is’ nay trouble, m’Laird.” She smiled and left to bring the food up to them. She returned a few minutes later with a kitchen maid and they laid a veritable feast on the dresser. Wine, Roast venison, tatties, neeps, steamed green beans, butter and cake rounded out the meal. Jamie was already hungry, so he fixed himself a plate and ate quietly at the little table by the fire, waiting for his wife to wake.

Earlier, Claire’d gone into Jamie’s study right as they came home and looked up information in his father’s law books. Handfasting was legally binding and Jamie was laird. By handfasting with him she became a Scot, and her English father could not compel her to leave Jamie’s lands – she had not committed any crime of underage marriage, as she was already the age of majority for wedlock in Scotland.

Claire finally woke and Jamie bad her to stay put. He brought her a tray with food and made sure she ate every bite. He’d already noticed she would eat too little when she was stressed – she’d need all her strength tomorrow. 

Claire and Jamie loved each other slowly that night, wanting to burn the memory of the other into their very cells. Jamie didn’t know what could happen tomorrow but he’d give his life to protect his lady. Claire prayed for divine interference. Why had she been allowed to fall in love with Jamie if they weren’t destined to stay together?

They rose the next morning and prepared for the showdown with Claire’s father. At about 2pm, Claire and Jamie were in the parlor when the clattering and creaking of a carriage could be heard in the courtyard. The dogs bayed and snarled, barking threateningly until Auld Alec silenced them, “Bi sàmhach! Rach don t-sabhal (Be quiet! go to the barn)!

Claire’s mouth went dry and it felt like she was underwater. 

She gripped Jamie’s hand until his fingers were bloodless lumps, “Mo chridhe, please, I’ll be needin’ these later, aye?” He looked down at her and smiled.

“Oh, love, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize!” Claire reddened and fled upstairs to their chamber via a back staircase from the kitchen as she heard the front door open.

Jamie walked from the parlor into the front room as Harris was getting ready to announce who’d arrived, “My Laird, may I present Lord Moriston and –“ Harris looked enquiringly at the person who’d stepped out from behind Jamie’s new father-in-law. 

The figure straightened up and boldly announced, “Captain Jonathan Wolverton Randall, Esquire, of His Majesty’s Eighth Dragoons.”


End file.
